


the right words

by sunnyjeno



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but it's super mild, there's a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyjeno/pseuds/sunnyjeno
Summary: Kun and Ten are having trouble keeping their business alive during the summer. A little brainstorming may help them fix more than that.





	the right words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@/yutakoball](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40%2Fyutakoball).



Kun nods at Ten and turns the sign on the front door.  _ Open.  _ The tables are clean and empty, waiting for the clients that will trickle in through the day, lights a warm yellow as they hang overhead. There’s a wall lined up with books, and coffee paraphernalia decorates the other ones. It’s another day at the coffee shop.

 

Kun jumps over the door access to behind the counter, and Ten laughs when he pretends to slip.

 

“One day you’re actually going to fall doing that,” He shakes his head.

 

“I’m sure you’ll pick me up once you’re done cackling,” Kun smiles back, standing up and dusting the imaginary dirt off his pants.

 

This is how they like to start their day, amongst smiles and little gestures, the coffee starting to brew, the pastries baking in the back. Every morning they make a point to make the other laugh, the sillier the laugh the better, in an effort to keep a positive energy all day.

 

“Why did we decide to own a coffee shop again? I mean, we could have gone for like, a tattoo parlor. Or a flower shop. Aren’t those perfect clichés too?” Ten leans his elbow on the counter, watching as Kun wipes the tables again. He throws Kun a rag, making him look up. “I asked you a question.”

 

“I know, I was busy ignoring your question,” Kun flinches and laughs when Ten threatens him with another rag, “Neither of us can handle needles or has the artistic talent to draw like a tattoo artist, and last time I checked, you don’t know anything about flowers.”

 

“And you do?” Ten rolls his eyes.

 

“You’d be surprised,” Kun winks in the cheesiest way he can, “but why the sudden question? Are you regretting it?”

 

Ten is quick to shake his head, “Of course not. This was our college dream, to own a quaint coffee shop, where you would bake and I would make the coffee, and we wouldn’t have to worry about living a fast life.”

 

“Then?” Kun is making his way to the counter, rags in hand, a worried expression on his face.

 

“I just wish—” Ten is interrupted by the chime of the entrance bell, and a suited man entering the coffee shop.

 

“This isn’t a sushi restaurant, is it?” He asks, black hair swept to the side.

 

“That would be across the street.” Kun explains with a smile.

 

“Thank you, I just came back from America so I’m not familiar with the area… Nice shop. Must be hard to find clients during the summer if you’re only selling coffee though.” He opens the door to leave again, and calls above his shoulder, “Have a good day!”

 

“You… too.” Ten answers, but the man is gone before he can finish what he’s saying. He sighs, moving to clean the counter for the nth time.

 

“I think I understand what you mean.” Kun sighs, watching the people outside pass the store by, not bothering to look at it.

 

“We need clients. Desperately.” Ten sets down the rags, watching along with Kun.

 

The shop remains empty for the rest of the afternoon.

 

\--

 

By closing time, their initial energy has decayed, and as they put up the chairs and head upstairs to their shared apartment, Ten’s throat is like a knot, holding back his tears. Before he can leave to his bedroom, Kun pulls him into a hug. This is their friendship, beyond the teasing. One filled with unspoken words, and actions that remind the other that despite everything, they remain. And right now, Ten really, really needs that reminder.

 

“I’m so scared,” he confides, face in Kun’s chest like when he’d get drunk in college, “there’s a chance we might lose this shop and I… I really don’t want to lose it. I love dancing, I’m proud of myself for taking the course but,” his hand clenches the fabric of Kun’s shirt, “but I can’t afford to lose this. I love being here, I love taking courses and watching videos about latte art and having you try my weird concoctions. I can’t lose it.”

 

“You won’t lose it. We won’t lose it.” Kun’s voice is a whisper of honey and cinnamon to Ten’s ears, and the hand rubbing circles on his back is a little bit reassuring. “I promise. Now get some sleep, alright? We’ll figure it out tomorrow morning.”

 

Ten nods and makes his way to his bedroom, Kun’s presence relaxing him in a way no amount of tea could. Kun, however, doesn’t head to bed. Instead, he rummages through the kitchen drawers, looking for their receipts book, and then goes to his room, to look for his emergency money stash, pours himself a cup of cinnamon tea and prepares for a long night.

 

Documents are spread across the table as Kun looks intently at them, trying to figure out just how they’re going to keep running the shop through the summer. They could ask certain places for extensions, but it’d be pretty hard to obtain. His money wouldn’t cover the money for the month either, and getting another loan would be like throwing away the shop. The clock ticks in the background, one of those silly things Ten had fallen in love with at an antiques store. Time goes on, but no solutions come to him, and he can feel the burden sinking, dropping down his chest and to his stomach.

 

There’s no easy solution to this.

 

But Kun made a promise, and he doesn’t want to lose this place either. He loves that the shop gives him time to explore his interests, that he gets to spend time with his best friend, and that despite the years, it’s still fun and enjoyable to be together. He loves surprising Ten with a new recipe that he’s been working on, sharing whatever he baked for the day. He loves the smell of freshly baked goods and the way Ten’s face lights up whenever he arranges them on display. And he can’t give it up.

 

“Well, shit.” Kun’s laughing quietly, but his eyes are filled with tears. It’s one of those laughs that hold frustration and pain, the kind of laugh that is hysterical for the wrong reasons. Kun covers his face with his hands and lets out an exasperated sigh. He never expected things to come to this point. The clock continues to tick.

 

\--

 

Somewhere along his frustration and stress, Kun manages to fall asleep on the couch, where Ten finds him hours later. Ten stares fondly at the sleeping figure, and then the fond stare turns into a frown when he notices all the papers surrounding him. Bills from the past months, the documents regarding the loan they had taken out when they first opened the shop, and some stray cards with bank names in clean print. 

 

Ten cleans up all the papers quietly, and goes to the kitchen to cook a quick breakfast while he waits for Kun to wake up. If his hands are shaking slightly as he stirs the oatmeal, well, no one needs to know that.

 

It takes fifteen minutes or so for Kun to wake up, and as he sees the organized pile of papers, he realizes Ten is aware of what he was doing before. He moves to his room and freshens up, then follows the smell of oatmeal (brown sugar and vanilla, Ten’s favorite) to the kitchen, where Ten is just serving himself.

 

“Good morning,” greets Kun, hair still a bit damp from his shower, as he serves himself a plate and steals a banana from the counter, not missing Ten’s scrunched nose at his choice. “Some of us lead healthy lives, Tennison.”

 

“You have a hidden gummies collection, you have no right to talk to me about health.” Ten sits down, waiting for Kun to join him.

 

“Yeah, gummies that I had to hide because you kept eating them.”

 

“Shut up and eat your oatmeal.”

 

They sit and eat together, no comments shared between them other than a few words about who was opening shop that morning. It isn’t until Kun stands up to put both their places in the sink that Ten even begins to mention anything related to the papers from earlier.

 

“You didn’t have to stay up doing that by yourself.” Ten is looking at the table, and Kun has his back towards him, scrubbing their plates. He tenses, but doesn’t turn and continues to wipe the dishes dry. “The shop is our responsibility. Together.”

 

“I didn’t have to,” Kun dries his hands and turns to look at Ten. “But you were stressed and worried, and I wanted to try and ease you a little bit.”

 

Ten meets his eye, and they share some kind of message between them, that is, until Ten looks away again. “It doesn’t ease me if I know you’re staying up and overworking yourself for it.” It’s almost a whisper, but Kun hears it.

 

“I’m sorry. You’re right.”

 

Ten nods and gives him a bright smile. “I’m right. So today we’re gonna sit down and work on this together, and you’re gonna bring some gummies over so we can snack on them.”

 

“Right on it chief,” Kun breaks into a smile too, and they both leave the kitchen.

 

\--

 

“Look, all I’m saying is, if you stood outside in a crop top, a lot of people would be interested.”

 

“Ten, for the love of baking, I am  _ not  _ going to wear a crop top.” Kun deadpans.

 

“Pity, you would look good.” Ten bites his lip in thought. “Okay, I’m out of ideas and gummies. Your turn.”

 

“I’m… out of ideas too, unless you want to wear the crop top instead.” Kun jokes around, shuffling around a deck of cards that was left on the table. Ten stares at his hands expertly moving the cards, and he can’t stop the whisper that leaves him.

 

“What did you say?” Kun questions, looking up from the cards.

 

“What if you used magic to bring people in?” Ten repeats louder, and when he sees Kun’s eyebrows rise, he becomes serious. “I’m not kidding. You literally convinced me to be friends with you by doing a silly card trick. It’s worth a try.”

 

“We still need a menu that works for this season.” Kun looks unsure, and Ten understands. These are desperate measures.

 

“I have some money saved up just in case, remember how you would chastise me about saving up all the time?” Kun nods with a chuckle, thinking back to their college years when they became a bit more serious about the coffee shop dream. “I think I can buy some ingredients and come up with some new drinks? I’ll even do smoothies if you cut up the fruit.”

 

“I can do that.” Kun nods, and pushes his own savings towards Ten. “This might help too. I can finish installing that little stage that we bought a couple months ago? Maybe if we had an open mic or something like that we would attract more people.”

 

“Jungwoo is still doing graphic design right? Maybe we can spread some flyers around.” Ten suggests, excitedly.

 

“I think we can do it.” Kun nods.

 

“I think so too.” Ten grins.

 

\--

 

The shop stays closed for the next couple of days, as both Ten and Kun run their separate errands. Kun goes back to his old hobby during college, one that pulled him out of more than one economic struggle. Funny how history repeats itself, because now he’s here again, standing in the middle of a public place, street performing and handing out flyers for the shop of his dreams.

 

He sees the same businessman from days before and smiles to himself, approaching him. 

 

“Hey! How’s Korea treating you again?” Kun asks honestly, and the businessman looks confused at first, but then he recognizes the shop owner and gives him a soft smile.

 

“Could be better. I’m not used to the new people yet.” The businessman shrugs, and Kun can see that he’s obviously nostalgic.

 

“Do you want to see a magic trick?” He asks, pulling out a black sharpie from his back pocket.

 

“I don’t see why not…?” The businessman looks unsure, but Kun is used to it, and doesn’t let it dampen his mood.

 

“Put your hands up like this,” Kun lifts both of his hands and extends them in front of him, palms facing downwards, “are you right or left handed?”

 

“Right handed,” the businessman answers, and Kun nods, pushing down the businessman’s right hand.

 

“Ok, we’re gonna use your weaker hand,” he uses his own hand to guide the businessman’s left hand into a fist, and then uncaps the the sharpie.

 

“I’m gonna throw you this little x mark on my skin, ok?” He draws an x on his hand with the sharpie, and then shows it to the businessman, who is starting to look intrigued. “Okay, so first I need to do a little bit of this…” He rubs the x marks, and then peels it off like it’s a sticker. “I’m gonna throw it now, you have to catch it, ok?” He throws it, and the businessman does as told.

 

“Oh come on. Shut up.” The businessman laughs, staring at his palm, where there is now a little x. “Shut up!”

 

Kun laughs along with him, and smiles when the businessman turns to a passerby, muttering something that sounded slightly like ‘did you see that?!’

 

“I have no idea how you did that,” the man breathes out, “I have absolutely no idea.”

 

“I threw it at you!” Kun’s smiling, because he knows exactly what the other means, but he’s not going to answer that question.

 

“That’s insane. Wow, I just. Wow.” The man pulls out a business card and hands it to Kun, “I’m Johnny.”

 

Kun smiles knowingly, “Kun. Nice to meet you, would you be interested in attending the open mic my cafe is having on Friday night?”

 

“I-I mean, if you’re doing tricks like this there, sure, count me in.” Johnny is still looking at the x on his palm, and Kun almost laughs, almost.

 

“We’ll see you there, then.” 

 

\--

 

“What if no one comes?” Ten is sitting behind the counter again, hands holding a cup of warm cocoa that Kun served him just minutes before. It may be summer, but he’d never reject a cup of Kun’s chocolate, not with the way he adds hints of other flavors because it’s ‘a special mix just for him’.

 

“Then we try again.” Kun puts down some kind of lemon pie, and again, doesn’t miss the way Ten reacts to it. “Oh, stop it with the nose-scrunching. I made vanilla cake batter ice cream, just in case there’s another weirdo like you.”

 

“There’s no one like me.”

 

“Agreed.” Kun smiles, and for some strange reason, Ten feels a shy flutter in his chest, like something that is just starting to bloom. Maybe it’s just disgust towards that dumb pie. Maybe, but looking at Kun’s smile definitely doesn’t cause him disgust, and though it’s something he’s known for a while, this little moment reminds him of just how much he loves his best friend.

 

He’s just beginning to question the way he loves.

 

“...Anyways, that’s why I decided I would poison one of every ten cupcakes we sell. You have helped me create a murderous web that no one would suspect.” Kun finishes, and Ten has to pause for twelve whole seconds before he realizes what Kun just said.

 

“You did  _ what  _ to the cupcakes?” He’s in shock, really. He never expected such a dark side of Kun to surface, but in retrospective, he should have seen it coming. No one could possibly be that nice and amicable without hiding some kind of obscure habit. Maybe murder just happened to be Kun’s.

 

“I did  _ nothing  _ to the cupcakes, but you were distracted and it’s always fun to see you contemplate the possibility of me being a psychopath.”

 

“I knew taking you to that psychopathology conference during our last year was a mistake.”

 

“I mean they did say psychopaths tend to gravitate towards business-related jobs, and here we are.” Kun’s smile is teasing, and yet it sends Ten into a brief panic. Is this it? Is he finally meeting his demise, in the shape of his business partner?

 

“It was the gummies, wasn’t it?”

 

Then Kun is bursting out in hystericals, and somewhere along the way of watching his best friend tearing up from laughter, Ten joins. The tension from earlier, the fears that came with it, the doubt surrounding their new menu, all seem to dissipate for that short moment uninhibited joy.

 

Kun is right. They’ll try again.

 

\--

 

“Are you sure this menu is alright? Are the limeades good?” Ten’s doing that thing again, where he starts pacing and laughing to calm his own nerves, not that he is any good at it. 

 

Luckily, over the years Kun has developed what he calls a Panicking Ten Contingency Plan, and, not to toot his own horn, it always worked marvelously.

 

“Deep breaths Tennison. We’ve looked over this menu twice in the past few days. We had a sample testing earlier this morning, and Sicheng out of all people said it was good. That’s like getting a royal warrant.” And it really is, because Sicheng has one hell of a sensitive palate, and if they can satisfy his taste-buds, then they’ve done something divine.

 

“Okay maybe you’re right, but what if people don’t join the open mic night? There’s no way I’m letting you do the ‘dance monkey dance’ act all night.” Kun puts his hands on both of Ten’s shoulders and willingly ignores the tingling sensation on his fingertips.

 

“Ten, I’m not gonna be any kind of monkey. We got calls, some people even left their instruments on the back in preparation for tonight.” Kun massages Ten’s shoulders, a vibrant but comforting smile on his face, “Even Jaehyun reserved a spot, and you know his poetry always brings crowds.”

 

“What if we can’t handle the amount of people that come in, and they leave with a bad impression?” Kun’s hands are fixing Ten’s hair, and if he wants to keep his hands there, maybe forever, well, no one needs to know that.

 

“Chenle and Renjun said they’d be here thirty before the open mic hours starts,” Ten is opening his mouth, but Kun stops him before he can say anything, “they said we could pay them in kind, which is Chenle and Renjun code for free sweets.”

 

“Okay, you got me. We’re thoroughly prepared, and I’m panicking about nothing.” Ten sighs, defeated, and Kun really has to hold back the endeared chuckle that is threatening to come out of his mouth.

 

“You’re not panicking over nothing. It’s okay to be scared, especially when we have so much to lose.” Kun almost finds himself kissing Ten’s forehead, but stops himself and goes in for a tight hug instead. “But we’ve worked hard for this. We can do it.”

 

“Are we… interrupting something?”

 

They really should have checked the clock, if Chenle’s giggle and the sound of a camera clicking is anything to go by.

 

\--

 

“Two watermelon limeades and a slice of lemon tart!” Renjun calls out towards the kitchen, where Kun and Ten are currently busying themselves with the orders. Renjun and Chenle are doing an impressive job as servers, and Kun even considers hiring them both in the future.

 

“Are you going to perform?” Kun’s question makes Ten look up from the glass bottles he’s drying, some cute present from Jaehyun that seemed perfect to serve the new drinks.

 

“Why would I?” Ten mumbles, going back to focusing on the bottles, and praying that Kun won’t push the subject, because maybe he really wants to go up on that stage, and maybe he did prepare something, but now that it’s well into the open mic, he’s starting to feel scared.

 

“I don’t know,” Kun shrugs, taking out the peach upside-down cake out of the oven and setting it aside. “Maybe because you’re an amazing performer, and you deserve to shine for more than your amazing drinks tonight…” Kun pauses, staring down at the cake like it holds the answers to his universe, “and maybe I want to see you do what you love again.”

 

“You see me doing what I love all the time. I love this shop, I love working by your side.” Ten is frowning a little, though his cheeks are becoming rosy.

 

“Not in the same way you love performing. I have it easy, Ten. I can still make music and sell it from time to time. But you don’t get to dive into your passions all the time. Come on, take a break. The orders are slowing down either way, I’m sure three of us can handle them.”

 

How could Ten say no, when Kun’s eyes are sparkling, and he seems ecstatic about Ten performing?

 

\--

 

The cafe is almost full, and there’s a knot in Ten’s stomach, half excitement and half nerves, as he stands in the middle of the stage. His business self wants to celebrate the success of the open mic, but right now, his performing self is taking up all his brain power.

 

“Good evening everyone,” Ten speaks into the mic, “My name is Ten, and I’m the co-owner of the cafe,” that earns him a few claps, and he laughs, releasing a bit of nervousness. “Tonight I’m performing a song for the person that got me through the best and the worst…”

 

Kun looks away from the stage when someone taps his shoulder, turning to meet eyes with Johnny.

 

“You guys really transformed the place, it looks amazing,” Kun notes that Johnny opted out of the stiff grey suit from earlier, donning a much more casual outfit. “And the menu is incredible.”

 

“Thank you,” Kun smiles pleasantly, pride swelling in his chest.

 

“How long have you been together?” Johnny asks, gesturing towards the stage, and Kun’s attention finally shifts back to then, enough to catch on to the lyrics he’s singing.

 

“ _ Lucky I’m in love with my best friend, lucky to have been where I have been, lucky to be coming home again…” _

 

“Together?” Kun smiles, warmth filling his chest like when Ten hands him his favorite coffee mix in the mornings, “Since the beginning of college.”

 

Johnny whistles to that, but doesn’t expect Kun to continue.

 

“We just never found the right words to say it until now.”

 

They both watch in silence as Ten continues to perform, a smile playing on his lips, a sneaky glance making its way towards Kun once or twice, before returning to the darkness of the public. Claps spread through the cafe, the sound overwhelming in contrast to Ten’s sweet voice, and Kun bids Johnny goodbye as he makes his way back to the kitchen, where he knows Ten is waiting for him.

 

“Hey,” Kun smiles upon entry, and his voice is confident—there’s no sign of nervousness or shyness, only the familiarity and tenderness of a long term love.

 

“Hey,” Ten returns, and his eyes are bright, painfully bright, in a combination of post-stage extasis and pure love. “Did you like my performance?”

 

Kun laughs, the warm feeling from earlier still present on his chest. “We’ve been a couple of fools for quite a while, huh?”

 

Ten nods, and he too is smiling widely. “A couple of fools alright.” He takes a step forward, standing in front of Kun, and it feels perfect like that, perfect without words spoken.

 

Kun holds Ten’s hand, and the touch is so familiar the latter can’t help but lean into it, interlacing their fingers. Their eyes meet and they laugh breathily again, maybe because of how absurd it is, to have been blind for so long.

 

“Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to do everything by myself?” Ten teases Kun, their mouths centimeters apart from each other.

 

“Shut up.” 

 

Their lips touch, and it’s, surprisingly, not like in the movies. There are no fireworks, or butterflies, or magical feelings. It’s just them, enjoying each other’s presence, smiling against each others lips, and—

 

“We are  _ definitely  _ interrupting something.” Another camera click.

 

And maybe the cafe’s kitchen wasn’t the best place to kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This one might have a special drabble (an actual drabble, not 1k words) as a follow-up, so do look out for that. Also, why are kiss scenes so hard?
> 
> Twitter: @/douxkun


End file.
